


Never Talk To Strangers

by ReyNimanSolo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassins, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Enemies and Lovers, F/M, Loneliness, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Touching, Porn with Feelings, Porn with minimal Plot, Touch-Starved, rey is not nice, with benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyNimanSolo/pseuds/ReyNimanSolo
Summary: Rey and Kylo are competing assassins and occasional lovers. All's well and good until Kylo wants more.It's dangerous, what he asking. It's how people like them wind up dead.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 49
Kudos: 118





	1. Summer 2015 ~ Enemies and Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of an original short story, this time with Star Wars and added sex.

To anyone else partying on the rooftop bar, they look like lovers in need of one of the hotel’s rooms. In fact, her companion will never need a hotel room again. When Rey's sure he's dead, she eases him back against the loveseat's cushions, kisses him one last time, and slips her favourite silver garrote free from his neck.

The whole evening has just gone sideways and, lucky for her, she finds herself alone in a sea of people. The half-full cocktail sitting at hand’s length beckons with a delightful distraction. Much to her dismay, her logical side wins. Time to abandon ship, including her drink. No need to push her luck.

Though she's itching to leave, she waits for the right moment. Soon, a lively group of women, one of them clearly the bride, heads passed her toward the exit. Rey rises and trails along behind them, pretending she’s part of their group. When they arrive at the elevators, she ducks around the corner toward the service elevators.

So far, so good.

Alone, she reaches beneath the hem of her dress, pulling the stolen passkey from a small leather pouch strapped around her thigh.

A quick wave across the sensor and the call light goes from red to green.

She reaches back under her dress, tucks the passkey back into its hiding spot next to the .38 Special nestled against her inner thigh.

Faint dings announce the elevator’s impending arrival. One of two things is about to happen. When the doors open, the elevator will be empty. Or it won’t. In either scenario, she's ready.

The elevator clanks to a stop, machinery hissing, before the doors slide open.

_Empty_

Shit. Things haven’t just gone sideways for her. They've gone bad all the way around.

Rey takes a deep breath and steps into the elevator. If she can survive the next ten minutes, there’s a chance at getting out of this.

Head down to hide her face from the cameras, she steps onto the lift.

The doors slide shut with the same hiss before it begins its descent.

She allows herself another deep breath, but doesn’t relax.

25

17

8

An unexpected ding announces the elevator's premature arrival, making her heart riot. There’s just enough time to shift her focus before the doors slide open, revealing a lone person.

Though she doesn’t meet his eyes or greet him, there’s no mistaking him.

 _Not good. Not good at all. What is_ he _doing here?_

Rey swallows hard and keeps her face averted.

Every nerve jangles as he steps into the lift. He keeps himself in profile facing the doors, and says nothing.

The lift begins moving. In the wrong direction.

10

14

Disguised as a designer bracelet, she fingers the garrote hanging around her wrist, the same one she’s just used to kill a different man, and calculates her odds of overcoming her companion before someone else joins their party. Too risky. He’s strong, well-built. Surprise is her only advantage and it won’t last nearly long enough.

“Aren't you going to say hello?” he asks.

“My mother told me never to talk to strangers,” she answers.

He faces her but she refuses to look up, conscious of the video camera pointed in their direction. This is not part of the plan.

There’s nowhere to go when he moves closer, trapping her in the corner.

Her hand darts toward the hem of her dress, diving for her pistol. Though she doesn’t want to kill him, it’s starting to look like this might be a him or her situation.

He moves faster, pinning her in place with his greater bulk.

“Uh, uh, uhn.” His hands cinch around her wrists, giving him leverage to draw them low behind her back.

She arches into him but doesn’t resist when his lips ghost against her ear.

“Your gun, you won't be needing it just yet.” His mouth finds the hollow where her neck and shoulder meet, lingers there. His clean, familiar scent sets her memory alight.

Rey swallows her breath but can’t stop the shiver rolling through her. Killing at close range always turns her on. If the heat rising against her thigh is any indication, they’re sharing the same boat.

He backs off enough to look at her, though his grip remains tight and he stays close. Dark eyes search hers.

“Since when are we strangers, Rey?”

Why does he have to be so tempting? Time to change strategies.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” she says before pressing forward to kiss him.

He tilts his head away, leaving only air against her lips. His meaning is clear. Now is not the time to resolve their personal, unfinished business. Still, he keeps close, hot with temptation.

Rey tests his grip, finds it strong.

“How many?” he asks.

“Just one but it's a big one. Sure to raise the alarm once he’s discovered. You?”

“Three.”

Her eyebrows go up.

“Three? Really?” It’s worse than she’d anticipated. She needs him to release her but isn’t ready to disengage from the alluring, overwhelming heat of him.

“Yeah, things didn't go the way they should have.”

“Same. We need a way out of here.”

“Front door’s out,” he says.

“So’s the roof.”

That earns her an annoyed hum.

“Let go of me or we're not going anywhere,” she says.

He curses her name then he’s upon her. The touch of his mouth to hers has the power to destroy them both.

Rey breaks free of his hold to bury her fingers in his hair, keeping him close while she kisses him back.

His hands find their way under her dress.

The rough brush of his fingers along her inner thigh brings her back. It’s her turn to keep him from what he wants. She pushes him away.

“We don't have time for this right now,” she says.

Rey snaps her necklace free and jams the master key that had hung from it as a pendant into the control panel. A quick twist lets her override its systems and choose any floor.

She yanks the key free and stuffs it into his front pocket, then draws her weapon.

He pulls his free of its holster in answer.

“Still carrying that ancient piece of shit?” she asks when she sees his Welrod.

“She's saved my sorry ass more times than I've deserved.”

The lift slows then reverses direction, heading down.

“You look great, by the way. That dress. Very nice.”

“Thank you. You look good, too. Stronger. New workout?” she asks.

“Crossfit.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

The lift slows, stopping two floors short of the lobby.

“Ready?” she asks.

The corner of his mouth quirks up before he winks at her.

“Ready.”

Rey falls into his arms and begins to giggle. The closeness of their bodies hides their weapons.

The doors slide open, letting them off in an employee-only area of the hotel. They keep up their charade of a drunken couple who’s somehow managed to get onto the wrong elevator while they assess their situation.

“Clear,” he says.

She cuts the giggles and straightens up, away from his embrace. All business now.

There’s a long row of lockers to their left. She heads toward them even though it’s a dead end.

“This way,” he says.

“No, wait. Help me.” Rey kicks her heels off then starts smashing padlocks using the lid of a metal trash bin so she can fling open lockers.

“What are you looking for?”

“Better shoes. Socks. A change of clothes. In that order.”

“Sizes?”

“Size 8 shoes. Find them.”

While he does that, she combs through clothing until she finds socks, a suitable pair of jeans, and a sweater.

She glances his way. He’s run out of lockers to raid. It means he turns her way in time to see her strip off.

Dress first. A shame. It’s one of her favourites. A navy blue Ralph Lauren with a well-placed line of gold buttons that curve across the hip and down one leg. A lady never wears a dress again once she’s killed in it.

Holster next. No way to carry her weapon along the inside of her thigh with jeans on.

His low whistle draws her attention.

She looks at him and wishes she hadn’t, caught up in the appreciation shining in his eyes.

“You are beautiful when you’re running for your life,” he says and tosses an expensive pair of Nike trainers, size 8, at her feet.

Anger blazes to life across her cheeks.

“Not now, Kylo.”

The door to the locker room opens.

They both glance toward the new danger.

“Finish up. I’ll take care of it,” he says.

Rey nods and pulls the jeans and sweater on.

The quiet pop-pop from his suppressor tells her things are getting worse fast.

She ties the last shoelace and hurries to empty a backpack. The dress, heels, holster, plus an insurance policy, go inside. Wouldn’t do to leave anything behind.

He comes around the corner. “We have to go. Now.”

Rey runs after him into the hallway and finds herself appreciating his attention to detail.

Like her, he’s obviously studied each floor of the hotel at length, knows the ins and outs of the building. Its strengths and its weaknesses. It means they waste no time getting to the most logical escape route.

He pushes through the exit door and holds it so she can pass through.

Distant sirens echo, loud and clear, through the hotel’s parking garage. It’s no surprise. Six dead bodies in a five-star hotel in downtown Hanna City surely means all law enforcement hands on deck.

“This way,” he says. “I have a car.”

“So do I,” she answers back.

To her chagrin, they end up in the same place, their cars parked side by side.

“That?” she asks, incredulous. “Really?”

His is a midnight blue Maserati without plates.

“What?” He points at her choice. “You’re really comparing the two?”

“Kylo, you have a lot to learn about this business.” She clicks the locks open and pops the trunk.

“You’re not serious,” he says.

“Come with me if you want to live.” Bad joke but there isn’t time for a good one. She makes a grand gesture of inviting him to climb into the trunk of her stolen VW Passat plastered with the local middle school’s honour roll stickers.

The sirens are nearly upon them. He curses before climbing in. “I was really looking forward to driving that.”

“Behave yourself and you still might get to.” She slams the trunk.

Rey eases into the driver’s seat and unzips the backpack she took from the locker room. She pulls a uniform shirt and apron used by the hotel’s restaurant and bar staff from within and tosses everything carelessly into the backseat, letting it scatter. Her gun goes beneath one leg, hidden from view but easily accessible.

With her seat belt securely fastened, she starts the car.

When she looks into the rearview mirror, a line of police cars, lights flashing, sirens roaring, blaze passed. Sheriffs. Highway Patrol. Local cops, too.

She waits, unable to back out.

The last car stops at the exit gate, blocking her route.

“We’ve got company,” she says over her shoulder. “I’m going in.”

Two thumps from the rear of the vehicle to let her know he’s heard. She backs out and drives toward the exit.

The officer, who’s gotten out of his vehicle to direct traffic, stiffens, hand going to his weapon.

Rey rolls up slow, window down, both hands visible on the wheel.

“Evening, ma’am.” Hanna City Police from the looks of his car.

“Hello, officer. Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“I’ll need to see some ID please, miss.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, ma’am.”

She reaches for the backpack in the passenger seat, the heft of her pistol reassuring beneath her thigh.

She digs around until she finds the little leather pouch she’d had strapped to her thigh. Tucked next to the service elevator key card are a driver’s license and hotel ID. She pulls both free and hands them to the officer.

“Is this going to take a long time? I can’t be late to pick my son up from the babysitter. She charges me twenty bucks extra for every five minutes I’m late.”

He glances in the back seat, taking note of the car seat then glances at her IDs. His hand comes away from his weapon. He gives her back the cards.

“Sorry for the trouble, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, officer. You, too.”

The window burrs as it rolls up. Rey doesn’t wait for it to finish closing before making her way out into the night.

Ten miles outside of town between the Chandrila-Brentaal county line, she pulls onto a long gravel drive and disappears amongst the late summer vineyards.

Five minutes later, with the engine off, the trunk pops open.

“What now?” he asks after unfolding himself from inside the small space.

“I have another, clean car in the barn if you need to leave tonight.” Rey starts toward the house but he grabs her hand and pulls her close.

She pushes her forearms into his chest, holding him at bay.

“Is that an invitation to stay?” His hands settle along her hips, touch light but firm. It's still more than enough to send anticipation shivering along her skin.

“What makes you think I want you to stay?” 

“I believe it was you who tried to kiss me first in the elevator,” he says.

“In this business, that’s what we call a diversionary tactic.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her arms circle his neck. One hand threads into the thick hair along his nape, giving her leverage to guide his mouth to hers.

He leans into her and grabs twin handfuls of her ass. Pent up aggression has them fighting for dominance. 

Kylo breaks away first, breathing hard. “And, what do you call this?”

She kisses him again, then answers. “Diversionary. Most definitely diversionary.” Rey disentangles herself from him and heads for the house. Her blood stirs when he follows instead of leaving.

It takes three tries to get the door code right. Not so easy pushing the little buttons in the dark when she’s being eaten alive by a hungry animal.

Once inside, the door barely has time to lock behind them before he has her up against the wall. With the threat of immediate death gone, there’s nothing left to keep them from their unfinished personal business.

His mouth is hot with greed. They both kick their shoes free while she lets him have his way about her.

Kylo pushes her sweater up until she pulls it the rest of the way off. His hands cup her breasts through her bra. He places a kiss above each one then blazes a trail of fire down her stomach with his mouth until he kneels before her. Another kiss just above her waistband before he undoes her stolen jeans and peels them off. With a quiet growl, he buries his face in the front of her panties.

“I can smell him on you,” he says.

She yelps when he nips at her with his lips and grabs him by the ears to hold him steady.

His hands tighten on her hips, keeping her close.

“Tell me his name.” The heat of his words floods across the damp scrap of lace separating them.

“You're imagining things. There's nothing to tell,” she says. “I haven't—" Rey stops herself before she makes a critical mistake.

He relaxes his grip and looks up at her.

“Haven't what? What haven't you done, Rey?”

She looks away from his dark gaze, searching for a way out of this disaster.

He rises, hands keeping hold.

“Are you saying you haven't slept with anyone since we—"

"Stop talking." There's nothing to gain from this conversation, and everything to lose, most especially herself.

“But, that was—"

“A long time ago,” she finishes. "So, what?"

He gives her a look she doesn’t want to consider too hard before he sweeps her up as though she’s his bride.

“Which way?” he asks.

“Straight down the hall.”

Rey rests her head on his shoulder, enjoying his strength and warmth.

He smells of exertion and spent adrenaline, a coppery smell not unlike spilt blood. She breathes deep, eyes closed, until he reaches the bathroom.

Kylo sets her down so he can start the shower. He knows she never takes baths. And, he knows why.

“You know the drill,” she says.

“Fair enough. It's your place.”

He begins undressing, starting with his shirt. Mesmerised, she watches his fingers undo each button, revealing evermore of his skin.

She can’t help but make an admiring sound when his shirt slips from his shoulders and drifts to the floor.

“Crossfit suits you,” she says.

His quiet chuckle tingles down her spine.

Pants and shorts go next. He takes a moment to stand before her, stripped bare, cheeks ruddy, before turning away.

_Dear gods, he’s beautiful_

With his back to her, he assumes the position, hands above his shoulders, palms flat on the wall, bare feet spread wide.

Rey steps up behind him, reaching out. Her hands find his shoulders, running down and across his back to his armpits. Smooth as silk, nothing to hide. Around the front to nipples like diamonds to the touch.

The little muscles in his stomach tense at her touch, the effect rippling across his body so that he trembles against her.

She runs her hands across his body, no longer bothering to deny the erotic thrill his submission brings. It's all pretense, this search for hidden weapons, because she finds none, even in the most intimate of places.

Rey savours the way he shudders as she slips her fingers from his skin.

“All clear?” he asks, voice low.

“All clear.”

He spins and scoops her up.

She wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, clinging tight against the sudden movement.

Without bothering to remove her undergarments, he steps into the shower.

Her back hits the cold stone tiles even as the hot spray soaks them. She gasps in surprise.

He sees an opportunity, kisses her, his mouth greedy with need.

Her control slips. It takes all her strength to pull away.

“Kylo.”

“Shhh. Not going to work this time.”

He holds her tighter, kissing her with all he has until she thinks she might drown.

Everything slows down, shrinks, until there isn’t anything but him and the way he loves her. Without judgement. Without expectations. Without limits. Just him. Just her. Just them, as though they are the only two people in existence.

She kisses him back like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, and maybe it will be.

After an eternity, he sets her down, pulls away, giving her room to strip off her undergarments.

He shampoos her hair, cleanses her skin with a soft cloth, makes her pure and clean and whole again until he’s washed all her sins, save for him, away.

"It can be different this time, Rey." He's on his knees, drying her legs with gentle strokes of a soft, fluffy towel. Even kneeling, he's tall enough to place a light kiss along her hip bone just by leaning close. "Between us, it can be different."

It's dangerous, what he's asking. It's how people like them wind up dead. He's young, in age and in this profession. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm and reckless optimism.

"You want the impossible."

The terrible truth is, she wants it, too. She's been alone so long, even before she came to this life, that the prospect of having someone to love is tempting beyond reason. He stirs something in her that's been cold and dormant for as long as she can remember. She hadn't believed it existed until he brought it searing to life.

"What are you afraid of? Tell me."

She's afraid of losing her edge, of becoming weak and vulnerable. Most of all, she's afraid of losing herself to this man who looks at her like she hangs the moon and the stars.

Her fingers tangle in his damp hair when he brushes his fingertips along her bare thigh.

"I want to touch you, need it like air to breathe."

"Even if it means putting our lives at risk?"

His lips skim along her hip. "I would risk everything to be with you, even if this, tonight, is all you're offering."

His fingers follow the line of his kisses, ghosting across her skin with impossible promises. She arches into his touch with a quiet inhale.

"Kylo." His name is all she can manage before he stands to his full height and presses close, hands to the wall on either side of her shoulders, mouth on hers so she can't say anything more.

For all his kisses, he has yet to touch her, really touch her.

“Come to bed with me, Rey. I'm not asking for anything more than that right now.” He's trembling, or maybe she is. "Please."

"In the morning, you go." She means the words to come out in a forceful rush and only manages a quiet whisper. It's enough either way.

His hands leave the wall, finding her face instead. He tilts her head up until her eyes meet his. His thumb brushes across her lips before he leans in, tender and so achingly slow that she has enough time to feel everything.

Soft lips replace the rough drag of his thumb, lingering until her breath comes in quick, warm pants. Two fingers touch beneath her chin, tilting her head back and baring her throat to his gentle, ravenous mouth.

Adrift, she remembers her hands, touching him to ground herself but he's having none of it, pushing each aside until she keeps them to herself. His hands, too, he keeps to himself, leaving only his breath warm, mouth hot against her skin.

His kisses fan out, tongue trailing along the hollow above her collarbone. She arches into him, breasts and belly grazing over his until his hands find her hips and ease her away. His lips come together over the slim curve of her shoulder.

"Kylo."

"Shhh. You're still holding on. Let go."

He moves on to her other shoulder, finding his way across her skin with open-mouthed kisses and little grazes of teeth.

Her hands rise of their own accord. She squeezes them into fists just short of touching him. It gives her strength enough to draw them away.

"I want to."

He eases lower, lips closing over one nipple. She arches into him when he sucks, hands tangling in the dark silk of his hair.

His arms wind around her, pulling her close even as he releases his mouth from her breast.

"I know."

She uses her leverage on his hair to pull him up until his mouth meets hers. His tongue sweeps across hers then he's lifting her, arms crossed beneath her thighs. There’s nothing to do but let him carry her to bed.

He sets her on the edge, easing his bulk between her knees. Warm hands span her thighs, fingertips skating along her hips until he reaches the dip of her waist.

Her breath catches, belly caving beneath the touch of his mouth beside her navel. His hair is silk woven between her fingers. It gives her leverage to keep him close when he tries to draw away.

He shifts, moving lower until his teeth graze the inside of her thigh.

She can't help the way her legs clamp around his head. Need burns hot from her centre.

"Easy." He pushes her knees apart with gentle pressure, waiting until she relaxes to start again.

She leans back on her elbows, looking down the length of her body while he kisses the slim curve of her calf, the arch of one foot then the other.

He kisses his way across her body, tuning it like tightly strung wire so that each time his lips pluck at her skin, she bends and sings for him.

By the time he eases her against the sheets, she's begging for his hands and cock. He gives her his mouth instead, letting her taste the salt of her skin on his tongue.

"Kylo, please." She wraps her arms around his shoulders, body rising to his in search of more.

He uses her hold on him to slide them all the way into bed. Instead of settling above her, he settles beside her. It gives him a free hand for touching. His fingers trail across her lips, down along her bared throat. He circles each breast, stopping short of her nipples when she rises into his touch.

He rests a warm hand on her belly and goes no further. The empty, aching heat between her thighs makes her beg.

"Don't stop, please." She raises her hips off the bed in a bid to set his hand back on its downward path.

"The sun is coming up.” His hand slides away though he stays by her side, his own need hot and hard along the outside of her thigh. "I should go."

Panic pits in her belly where her skin is still warm from his touch. Her eyes fly open, looking to the window where the pale light of approaching dawn silvers the glass. She looks to him next, searching for confirmation that he means to leave without finishing what he’s started.

He’s smirking, eyes crinkled up in amusement.

“You absolute bastard.” She rolls into him with a playful growl, forcing him onto his back so she can slide on top of him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“What? You made the rules. I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“Oh, really?” She sits up, firmly planted across his lap, legs clamped tight over his hips. When he reaches to touch her, she pins his hands beside his ears. It’s all too easy to slide back until she has what they both want trapped between them.

He groans when she rolls her hips, his expression shifting from amusement back to desire.

“A gentleman would never leave his lover unsatisfied,” she admonishes.

“Is that what we are?” The playful gleam in his eyes has turned dark and serious. “Lovers?”

“Judging by our current state of undress and location, and the fact that we’ve done this before, yes. Occasionally.” Though the mood has shifted, she fights to keep it light.

He hums his dissatisfaction, fingers tightening around hers. “Rey.”

She waits but he doesn’t continue. “What?”

He hesitates and in his hesitation, she knows exactly what he’s about to say.

Without thinking, she lets go of one of his hands, using it to cover his mouth. “Don’t. Please, don’t say it. You know it’s not possible.”

He shakes his head, eyes pleading and sad.

Her need for him returns with a vengeance. She takes her hand away, replacing it with her mouth. It sets something wild loose between them.

He bends toward her, hands coming to her face.

Her mouth opens to accept him then he’s rolling her onto her back. She widens her legs to accommodate his width.

Gone is the slow tenderness of earlier, replaced by their fierce desire to fill empty spaces. His cock teases between her thighs while his mouth devours her throat.

His lips find her ear. “Say you’re mine.”

Her fingers dig into the heavy muscles of his shoulders when he lines up, pressing just to the edge of penetration.

“Say it.”

Instinct overrides logic. “I’m yours... _oh.”_ He’s halfway in before she can finish.

Damp strands of his hair curl against her cheeks when he kisses her. Her hands grip his ass, pulling him the rest of the way in. He breaks away with a heavy gasp, forehead pressed to hers. Without moving anything else, he eases out then back in, going slow to give her time to adjust.

It feels like it goes on forever, his only change in pace marked by the addition of soft, tender kisses. It’s easy to lose herself in the warm, languid swell of him.

He begins whispering of things that can never be, the words quickening with his pace. A practiced hand slips between them to give her more. The swell amplifies into the oncoming rush of release. When it comes, it takes her breath away.

When she opens her eyes, he’s sat up, one hand dug into her hip, the other still strumming across oversensitive flesh. She pushes his hand away and holds him tight, encouraging him to speed up.

The shine in his eyes and the flush on his skin tell her he’s close. She runs a hand up his chest, marveling at the solid strength beneath her palm. When she reaches his neck, she keeps going until her fingers are in his hair.

She pulls him in, words hot on her lips. “Kiss me while you come.”

His kisses land first followed by hot, panting breaths that match his frantic thrusts. She rises to meet each one, giving him room to sink as deep as he wants.

The loss of him when he pulls out drags the breath from her lungs. He buries his face along her neck as he spends hot across her belly. She holds tight while he shudders in her arms. After a time, his breath slows, turning to light kisses along her throat.

The quiet goes on a long time before he finally eases away to fetch a towel. He insists on wiping her clean. When he’s satisfied, he slides in beside her, his chest warm against her back.

She’s drifting off when he whispers his sleepy claim. “Mine.”

There isn’t enough bandwidth left to think before she replies. “Yours, just for tonight.”

When she wakes in the morning, he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much enjoyed that. I hope you did, as well.


	2. Spring 2016 ~ Wildcat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s it, little wildcat. Set it free.” He does his best to hold her in check while he waits for the storm to pass.
> 
> He’s the only one who can give her what she needs and she hates him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling reckless, and also inspired.

Indignation at being slung over his shoulder and carried like some damsel in distress makes her wild with fury. Rey pounds her fists against his back, aiming for his kidneys but he's too damn tall for any of the blows to be effective.

"Dammit, Kylo! Put me down!"

He chuckles and resets his grip, keeping her firmly in place, one thick arm barred across the back of her thighs, the other slung tight across her ass and low back, and keeps walking. The amusement in his voice spikes her fury, turning her wild.

"I'll fucking kill you for this." She feels his hum of continued amusement more than she hears it. Infuriating.

"I'm counting on it, at least, the fucking part." With that, he tosses her onto the bed in a loose tangle of limbs and filthy curses.

She launches herself at him, geared up for hitting and biting and screaming.

He’s ready, deflecting only the blows with the most power to maim. The rest, he lets land across his face and body.

The first time through it’s ugly and violent.

“That’s it, little wildcat. Set it free.” He does his best to hold her in check while he waits for the storm to pass.

He’s the only one who can give her what she needs and she hates him for it.

When her rage subsides into quiet desperation, he’s left with deep welts carved across his chest and face, bottom lip split. Crimson trails from his nose and stains his mouth. She’s drawn blood on him in multiple places.

None of these things keeps them from what comes next.

Tangled together in sheets torn free by her outburst, he stares into her soul as he pushes into her, stealing her breath.

“Fierce little wildcat,” he says. “You’re mine.”

He takes what he wants, giving her nothing in return, not this time. She hasn’t earned it.

When it’s over, he slips beneath the edge of dreams, her marks purpling beneath his skin.

Still tangled in his arms, she reaches out, running her fingers along an angry scratch on his cheek. She trails down his neck, stopping when his pulse beats steady beneath her touch.

Peace comes at last even if the fire still burns in her belly.

The second time through it’s desperate and slow. He’s learned to hide his pity, leaving her free to cling to him.

He takes everything she throws at him. Sometimes it’s violence. Sometimes it’s a seemingly endless torrent of tears. Sometimes it’s bright laughter edged in steel that lasts too long. Sometimes it’s fear or pain or panic. Sometimes it’s nothing more than an insatiable need to fuck.

No matter what, he takes it all. No questions asked. No comments. Doesn’t try to soothe her or fix her or break her.

He simply is.

She hates him for making her crave it, for seeking it out until he’s stripped her bare, time and again.

When it’s over, she lays tucked against him, her tears running down his skin where her cheek rests on his shoulder.

He lets her decide what she wants and when. For the moment, he lays prone next her, the hands curled into the sheets beneath them the only sign of his distress. His chest rises and falls beneath her cheek, heartbeat slow and steady in her ear.

Long after her tears have dried to stiff trails of salt, he’s so still that if she didn’t know him better she’d believe he slept.

But she does know him, knows that beneath the calm exterior a storm rages inside him. The same storm that rages within her.

How is it possible that he is teaching her to find peace with what she is? She’s done the math a thousand times. He’s so much younger and new at the game. A lifetime of experience divides them.

But he’s good. Really good. She’s been in this business long enough to know that, though their kind are few, she’s never encountered anyone like him.

They never speak of it.

Though his body is still, eyes closed, breathing relaxed, it’s easy to feel the pent-up energy humming around him.

She slides on top of him, watches as his eyes open and track her.

He waits, the only thing moving are his fingers as they grip the sheets tighter.

“Open your mouth.”

He does as she says.

It would be so easy to slide her gun between his lips, pull the trigger. Instead, she slides her tongue in.

He kisses her back, hips arching into her in a momentary loss of control before easing away.

Though his eyes are open, they’re glassy and faraway. He goes still and quiet again.

She touches his face with her fingers, watching his focus shift to her, coming back from whatever edge he’s slipped away to.

Something breaks free inside him.

He rises up on one elbow and pulls her mouth to his, movements frantic as though he fears she’ll somehow slip from his grasp.

For the first time, he lets her hold some of his pain and regret.

She tastes blood as the force of their kiss reopens the wound in his lip she gave him earlier.

He curls his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck and pulls, breaking the kiss.

Though his eyes are wild and dark and he’s breathing hard, he’s back in control.

“Say it.”

She can’t tell if he’s talking to her or to himself. Either way, she’s not listening this time.

If she pushes, he’ll go beyond the tipping point.

They both will.

They won’t be able to stop.

Rey's no longer sure she wants to stop even though it means everything changes.

She leans in, taking hold of the arm tangled in her hair. Her mouth finds his. She pulls with everything she has until the dam breaks.

He’s up and on her. Hands everywhere. Mouth greedy.

It feels like the first time she’s ever kissed anyone. It also feels like the last time she’ll ever kiss anyone again.

He reaches under her so he can pull her all the way into his lap. She straddles him, letting herself slide along his length. His fingers dig in and he groans when she keeps just beyond range.

She whispers his name, his real name, knowing she’s the only one still alive who can.

“Rey, please.”

It sets her on fire when he begs. What does he want? What is he asking for?

He begins to speak and she’s terrified of what he means to say.

“Shh. Not yet.” Her kiss is meant to stop the flow of words but he won't be deterred.

"When?"

The desperate tears are back.

“Please…not now.” It’s her turn to beg.

She slides him inside of her at last and there are no more words between them for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are... complicated.


	3. Spring 2019 ~ It's Been Awhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When was the last time you slept?”
> 
> “Yesterday,” he answers.
> 
> “I’ve seen what you call sleep. It’s not.”
> 
> He doesn’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging what they both know. She's been following him for weeks. Three, to be exact.
> 
> “Why now?” he asks.
> 
> “Because you have something we need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's been awhile  
> Since I've seen the way, the candles light your face  
> And it's been awhile  
> But I can still remember, just the way you taste
> 
> Soundtrack for this chapter: It’s Been Awhile ~ Staind ©2008

“Are you hooked?” she asks.

A strange question considering their current situation. In spite of all they've just survived, this is their first real opportunity to talk.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant right now,” he answers. “We have bigger problems at the moment.”

His lack of denial is more than enough confirmation of what she already knows is true. Behind him, a thick menacing column of smoke roils up beyond the edge of the roof. If they stick around too much longer, their chance for escape will be cut off.

“I can get you clean. Quick. Painless,” she says.

He tightens his grip on his knife, watching as she shifts her grip on hers, neither of them willing to concede even though time is running out.

“I don’t know what they’re teaching you hotshots over at the Academy these days but you’re going to have to do so much better than this.”

She opens her mouth to reply. Before she can, glass explodes from the heat making him flinch. She takes advantage of his momentary distraction and knocks his weapon away with a well-placed roundhouse kick.

“They teach us plenty,” she answers.

He recovers faster than she anticipates. Though he’s no longer armed, he has height and speed, advantages she can only make up in ferocity and unpredictability.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Yesterday,” he answers.

“I’ve seen what you call sleep. It’s not.”

He doesn’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging what they both know. She's been following him for weeks. Three, to be exact.

“Why now?” he asks.

“Because you have something we need.”

“And I’m just supposed to forget the past three years? Come along as though nothing’s changed?”

Rey pulls out of her coiled stance, arms softening at her sides. Her grip on the knife is the only part that doesn't relax.

“Circumstances have changed. We’re willing to admit that mistakes were made. On both sides.”

He keeps up his guard. “And, if I refuse?”

More windows explode, sending flames along the roofline.

“You haven’t yet so there’s no point in talking about it until we get there.”

While he watches, she lowers herself to one knee. “The offer to get clean comes with no strings attached other than, after we’ve helped you, you’ll return the favour.”

There isn’t any such thing as NSA in this business. Her offer is a mere formality, a polite gesture. If he refuses, she’ll kill him and his family as soon as she has the chance.

“And how would I repay you?”

She lets the story string out, tight words across a tighter, thinner wire, until he has a full understanding of what they're up against, and what it means if he refuses.

He listens without interruption, disciplined enough to know when to stay silent. He also knows when it's his turn to speak.

“What about my family?” he asks.

“If you cut all ties, we’ll guarantee their safety.”

He goes rigid before turning half away. Internal turmoil twists his features as he cycles between outright rejection and the undeniable reality of his position.

“All ties?” His voice is quiet, full of painful acceptance. The impact makes him unsteady. “How soon?”

“There will be no goodbyes. You will simply disappear, starting now."

He threads a rough hand into his hair, breathing rapid and shallow.

She's waiting when he faces her full on.

“No,” he says, rising to his full height.

She takes his words as an outright refusal, moving quick, ready to take him out and make her escape.

“Ease off!" He steps back, hands held up in defense. "I’m only refusing to just disappear. I won’t leave them wondering what happened to me for the rest of their lives. Closure. Give them that, at the very least.”

Rey weighs his terms. They need him and his lack of specifics around the meaning of closure gives her all the opening she needs.

“Fair enough.” She offers him an alternative, one that still leaves her enough wiggle room to bend her offer to her advantage later.

“What now?” Another explosion punctuates his question.

“So, you’re in then?” she asks.

He takes a deep breath. It's easy to see the way the conflict tears him apart. “In.”

“I’ll need to restrain you,” she says.

He laughs. “Seriously? You think I’ll agree to that?” He raises his hands to his sides, palms open and relaxed. The illusion that he's let his guard down doesn't fool her. “If we’re going to be on the same team, it starts now. Trust goes both ways.”

She considers him for a moment then lets go a small smile.

In the streets below, countless sirens speed in their direction.

“We have to go,” she says.

The door leading to the stairs explodes outward. Ten feet of impenetrable flame pours from the only exit, blasting them with heat.

“Looks like we’ll have to jump,” he says.

They each scout different angles.

“Here. The other building's a stretch, looks almost a full storey lower, but the gap is only a few feet across.”

He stands next to her, close enough that either of them could push the other and escape into the night.

“You good for this?” he asks.

She answers by gauging the jump and calculating her landing. Before he can stop her, she jogs away then turns to run, legs pumping as hard and fast as she can make them.

At the edge of the roof, she steps onto the ledge, pushing off it to get even more momentum. She pinwheels her arms to keep herself aligned. For the briefest moment, everything goes silent as she floats over the empty space between the buildings, ten stories above the ground.

Her stomach drops into her feet as the next roof approaches. Though she manages to land and tuck into a roll, the impact jars her entire body. She tumbles without grace, patches of skin scraping away on the rough surface, lungs locked.

He crashes down just as she gets to her feet, his execution not much better than hers.

Without speaking, they make their way out to the street. The crowds gathered to watch the burning building make it easy to slip away unnoticed.

“This way,” she says. “I have a car.”

They drive for a long time with nothing to break the silence. The raw skin on her face and arms stops stinging and throbs instead. As the sun rises, she pulls up to a small house, hidden from outside eyes.

He follows her inside where she leads them into the kitchen. Dark bruises ring his eyes. He’s trembling from exhaustion and withdrawal.

“Here. It will take the edge off.” Rey sets the injection capsule on the counter. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

Rey doesn’t stay to watch him shoot up.

It feels good to wash away the dirt and grime, scrub her wounds clean. With her damp towel wrapped around her body, she considers the stinking pile of ruined clothes at her feet, struggling to bring herself to put them back on. She jumps when he knocks on the door.

“I found some clean clothes that might work,” he says.

She cracks the door and reaches her hand through until she feels the clothes.

The shirt fits snug across her chest, one size too small while the bottoms hang off her hips, easily two sizes too big. She cinches the drawstring as tight as it will go to keep the pants up. Still, she can’t complain too much about clean clothes.

When she returns, he gives her a sad smile through hazy eyes. The injection capsule is nowhere to be seen.

“Your turn. If you want to shower, there are towels under the sink,” she says.

While he cleans up, she starts breakfast, more for something to do than because she’s hungry.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t hear him until it’s too late. Cold metal bites into her skin when he snaps the handcuff across her wrist, the other end already locked around one of his.

She spins with a growl, trying to break free. The binding between them limits her range of motion. He twists, jerking them off balance. They go down hard. His breath huffs out when his back hits the floor. It huffs out a second time when she crashes down on top of him. Instinct makes his arms cinch around her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She yanks on the shackle, jerking his arm. Rey resists the urge to struggle against his hold, determined to focus on anything but the way he feels beneath her.

Dark eyes full of wonder stare at her. His hands skate along her back, holding tight. "Fuck, I've missed you."

Fury lights through her but it's not enough for her to disentangle herself from him. "A lie, to be sure."

His unshackled hand leaves her back, finding its way to her face. He pushes loose strands of damp hair off her cheek, his touch warm and familiar, even after so long apart. "I thought you were dead."

"Enough of this bullshit." She slides off him and sits up, thigh pressed to the side of his ribs. Their linked hands rest in her lap. "Give me the key."

"I don't have the key."

She jerks hard. Metal bites into the delicate skin of her wrist. He's lax, whether with the drug or belief in his superior position, she can't tell. In either case, it makes her edgy.

"Dammit, Kylo."

“Relax. It's just a small insurance policy while I sleep.” He lays prone, staring up at her. “I just need to sleep and I can’t have you roaming free while I do.”

She glares at him while she considers his words. There's a softness in his limbs that speaks of bone-deep exhaustion. She feels it, too. He's right. They both need to sleep and neither can afford to have the other loose while they rest. The sharp scent of food on the verge of overcooking makes up her mind.

“Fine. I’m hungry. Let’s eat, then we can sleep. As soon as we do, I'm picking this lock.”

He lets her turn down the heat on the stove before making her unload her gun and tuck the pieces away in different places to ensure she has no chance of rearming herself while they're shackled to one another. When he's satisfied, they return to her half-cooked meal.

Having to move in sync with him while they finish making breakfast feels strangely intimate. They eat in silence. More than once, she catches him nodding off.

She pushes her chair away from the table and pulls on their linked wrists to get his attention. “Come on. We could both use some rest.”

He slides between the sheets, asleep the moment he lays down.

Rey sits beside him, bound together, and lets her eyes wander across his sleeping face. He looks older, weary and worn, and still beautiful despite his troubles.

Over the last three weeks, she’s watched as he's lived his life. Watched as he went to work and the gym. Watched him play with his infant son. Watched him make love to his wife. Watched him slide along the greasy rails of addiction and bad choices.

A deep shudder of excitement rolls through her. So vulnerable. In his inebriated state, she can take anything she wants from him and he won’t be able to stop her. Unable to resist and with nowhere else to go, she slides beneath the sheets next to him, pressing as much of her body against his as she can.

He's warm, unnaturally so, a side effect of the drug. She lays still, letting his solid presence ground her. It's been so long since she felt the shape of another, the shape of him.

The temptation proves too much. Like hers, the clothes he'd found to wear don't fit. Thin, well-worn cotton stretches tight across his chest. It's soft beneath her touch, velvet over steel as she glides her hand along his sharp curves. He’s thinner, more wiry and less broad than the last time she touched him. Even so, his strength remains, different and no less lethal.

He stirs but doesn’t wake, the drug keeping him just under the edge of consciousness.

She grows bold, rising up on one elbow until she hovers over him. His face pinches in but his eyes remain closed when she slides her free hand beneath his shirt. His skin pebbles under her palm. Otherwise, he gives no reaction. She lets her fingertips trace over his skin. The pad of her thumb brushes over a nipple. At that, he shifts, hips pushing up into the sheets in a way that makes heat pool in her belly. She thumbs his other nipple, earning her another thrust, accompanied this time by a low hum from the back of his throat.

"Kylo."

His eyelids flutter but remain closed.

She tries again, this time while running a deliberate path down his chest with her touch while she calls his name. His response is the same subtle shifting of hips and what very much sounds like pleasure in his moan. Still, he doesn't wake.

It's a simple thing to pull her oversized pants off. When she's bare from the waist down, Rey straddles his thigh, one leg slotted between both of his with her knee drawn up. She adjusts her position until the pressure feels good. It's easy enough to rub herself any way she pleases.

Her breath speeds along with her pulse each time she edges against him. His skin grows slick with her arousal, raising the forbidden pleasure to a dizzying level. Her fingers dig into his side for leverage. The hot buzz of excitement spreads out from her belly as she ruts against him.

It would be a simple thing to come but Rey wants more. She slows her pace, letting herself ease back from the edge. When she pulls the sheets down, she finds him hard, cock straining beneath the too-small athletic shorts he found to wear.

Rey works the waistband down until the thick length of him springs free. It's wrong but then, isn't everything about her life wrong? One more indiscretion will hardly make a difference when her day of reckoning finally arrives.

She grips his cock, thumb swiping over the plush head. His moan reminds her of her own abandoned need. Rey adjusts her position, giving her room to play with him while she rubs against his thigh. It's heady, this power she has over his body while his mind sleeps. She's on the verge of climax, thinks he is too by the way he thrusts into her fist, when his large hand clamps over her small one where it's wrapped around his cock.

"Rey."

She freezes, orgasm shoved aside by shameful surprise.

His eyes are wide, dark with confusion and arousal. "What are you doing?"

She pulls away to give herself space to think of an explanation. He uses her shift to his advantage, rolling into her until she's on her back beneath him, legs spread wide to accommodate his breadth. Her breath huffs out when his cock touches her pussy. He pushes his hips forward, sliding himself through her slick heat.

Rey keens with need, rising to meet him. He draws away, leaving her aching and empty.

Her fingers dig into the heavy muscles along his side. "Please."

"Please, what? Tell me what you want, Rey."

"Give it to me." The words hiss out, harsh and greedy. She arches up, desperate for more.

The heat of him returns, dragging over sensitive, needy flesh. He leans close, mouth closing in on hers. "You want my cock? Is that it?"

Her fingers dig harder, sure to leave bruises by the time the sun sets. "Give it—to me."

His mouth slots over hers, allowing him to swallow the sound she makes as he sinks into her. He slides his tongue into her mouth while he drags himself out. The next hard thrust breaks their kiss.

He buries his face against her neck, all control gone, ripped away by desire and clouded judgment. Whispered words of things that can never be fall like warm summer rain against her skin.

She shoves her fingers between their bodies, touching herself while he fucks her.

A strong arm winds its way beneath her back, pulling her hips off the bed to give him more space to sink deeper. His mouth finds hers again in the last seconds before he comes, cock buried to the hilt.

Rey's fingers keep up their furious rhythm even though he's gone still. The wicked twitch as he spends himself inside her sends her over the edge with a ragged cry.

He stays on top of her long after they've finished, moving only enough to strip away their remaining clothes. Warm fingers trace along her skin followed by sweet little kisses that make her feel things she can't allow herself to feel.

Heat blooms fresh between her spent thighs. Rey pushes against him. "Get off."

He keeps her pinned beneath his weight. His lips touch the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "No. Not until you say what we both know is true."

The touching and kisses start again when she remains silent. She fights hard against the desire he ignites inside her, knowing it's a losing battle.

Metal clanks on metal when he catches her hands in his. He twines their fingers together so he can press hers to the pillow above her head. The heat of him overwhelms her and she knows she's lost.

"I'm yours." The admission leaves her shaking with a stark sense of open vulnerability.

"No, not that." He's hard again, his kisses heating up along her skin.

She moans, arching into him when his clever mouth finds her nipple.

"You know what I want." His cock teases through the slick mess they've made between her thighs. "You've always known."

His tongue trails between her breasts until he finds her other nipple. He sucks, bringing the words rushing to her lips.

"I love you."

The speed with which he moves from her nipple to her lips takes her breath away. His mouth is hungry and possessive. Without asking, he pushes deep into the wet heat of her.

It's too much. She tightens against the intrusion and turns her face aside.

"Kylo, stop."

He doesn't, though his pace inside her is slow, languid. "Give me one good reason why."

She seizes on the first thing she can, rational or not. "Your wife."

"She stopped being my wife the moment we jumped off that building together." He shifts, pushing into her at a different angle until she's moaning and rising to meet him.

All thoughts of protest melt away under the gentle, rising pressure he builds inside her with each slow thrust. She strips her hands from his. Her fingernails score crisscrossing tracks into his back in a desperate attempt to stay in control.

"Mmm, there it is." He adds kisses to his movements. The combined sensations bring her to the edge a second time. His fingers find their way between them. “I don’t want to cage you, little wildcat. I want to set you free.”

She holds on, still fighting against the inevitable.

“Come for me again, sweetheart.”

His words push her over in a swift, violent rush until she’s seizing around him. He tightens his grip and keeps up his steady rhythm until he spills inside her with a low, breaking groan.

When it's over, he repositions them so her back is curled into his chest. Their cuffed hands rest low on her belly. Utterly spent, he slips into unconsciousness.

Rey threads her fingers through his, ready to follow him into the blessed relief of a dark, dreamless sleep. While she waits for it to arrive, she thinks about everything except his family, who knows by now that something has happened to him.

Something terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trash, after all these years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for spending time here.


End file.
